


A Sparking Attraction

by shireness



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hey look it's smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:47:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21551002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shireness/pseuds/shireness
Summary: Emma just wanted a nice, relaxing weekend. Who knew her car trouble would be the ticket into her hot's neighbor's pants?
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan
Comments: 11
Kudos: 160
Collections: Black Swans & Red Hooks





	A Sparking Attraction

**Author's Note:**

> I had car trouble recently. Unfortunately, I don't have a hot neighbor to come save me, but why can't Emma?
> 
> Rated E for smut. Thanks to @snidgetsafan for her beta-ing and the title.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Goddamn, motherfucking, piece of fucking shit —”

This was, to say the least, not the morning Emma had hoped to have. It was a rare weekend off from the station, and as much as Emma usually loved her job as a Storybrooke Sheriff’s Deputy, a couple days off were much needed after a week where it seemed like the entire town had been out to irritate her personally. Leroy and his brothers had gotten into yet another screaming match, Ella Cruller wouldn’t lock up her dogs again, Victor Whale had been drunk and belligerent at the Rabbit Hole on a goddamn Tuesday night the list went on and on. Emma needs some ice cream and a grilled cheese and probably a stiff drink, and above all to hermit at her apartment and not re-emerge until she’s back to work Monday afternoon. 

Unfortunately, to achieve those pathetically small dreams, Emma has to go to the store. And unfortunately, since Emma has things to do, her fucking car won’t start. Probably the battery. Of course. 

She shouldn’t be surprised, really; it’s not like the Bug is some pristine new machine that’s in perfect working order. She loves that stupid thing, but it’s  _ old _ , and old cars have problems. The only minor miracle is that hers is a new enough model to have the battery properly in the rear compartment instead of under her back seat. Of course, she doesn’t have one of those handy cordless battery jumpers David is always on her to buy; no, that would be too simple. She’d meant to buy one for a while, but they’re fucking expensive and what were the chances she’d need it anyways?

Famous last words, obviously. 

“Fucking traitor,” she mutters again, scowling at the exposed engine where she’s propped the back hatch up and kicking lightly at one of her tires. Ok, not so lightly, but the car deserves it, even if her toes don’t.

She’s just about to start up with another string of profanity in order to avoid trying to actually fix the problem when a voice calls from behind her - directly behind her, in fact. “Car trouble, lass?” Even if the soft accent and tone of voice aren’t alarming, the proximity is, and Emma claps a hand over her chest above where her heart is spasming. Apparently, she hadn’t noticed his approach in her focus on cursing at the little car.

“Fuck almighty, you scared the  _ shit  _ out of me,” she accuses, whirling around to meet the eyes of her neighbor. It’s Killian Jones, of course; if the accent wasn’t a dead giveaway, her current streak of luck would dictate it anyways. Because of  _ course _ her effortlessly hot neighbor who Emma  _ definitely _ doesn’t have anything resembling a crush on, no sir, no way, would show up now when she’s ratty-looking and irritable. At least she showered this morning; it’s a scant blessing. 

At least he has the decency to look a little sheepish. Serves him right, after the scare he gave her. “Apologies, love. I heard a commotion, looked out my window to see your hood popped open, and thought I’d come offer my assistance.” He pauses for a bare second before picking up again, not even enough time for Emma to start responding. “Though really, is it still called the hood if it’s at the back of the car?”

Emma just stares for a moment. “Seriously?”

“You’re right, doesn’t matter,” he concedes. “Do you need any help? I can’t say I’m good at car repair, but I’m decent at taking directions.”

“It’s fine,” Emma replies. “Not my first rodeo with changing the battery in this car. Call me an old pro or something. Don’t worry about me.”

Not that it stops him, a concerned little wrinkle set stubbornly in his forehead. “Well, you’re going to need a new one, right?”

“I mean, yeah.”

“Can I drive you to the auto parts shop, at least?”

Emma pauses at the offer. Honestly, she’d planned to call David; technically, he’s working, but she thinks with some finagling this could fall under the “public assistance” bit of his job description. Emma is always hesitant to accept help if she doesn’t have to - call it an unfortunate remnant of a shitty childhood - but Killian is here, and he is offering. Even if Emma doesn’t want to accept his help on principle, she knows he won’t judge her for taking it or think she’s weak. She may not know her neighbor that well, but he’s never been anything but polite and chivalrous, if a bit flirtatious at times.

(Maybe one day she’ll take him up on that flirting; for now, at least, she can take him up on that offer of a ride.)

She must have been thinking for longer than she thought, because Killian looks like he’s about to withdraw the offer in embarrassment. He’s a stutterer when he’s nervous, Emma’s noticed; not that she’s had much cause to, but in a town this size, it’s impossible not to catch folks in some kind of embarrassment eventually, and she’s seen him with his brother. 

“You know what? Sure, a ride would be great,” she agrees. The way Killian’s shoulders drop in a small show of relief makes her more confident in her choice, especially when he smiles at her in what she almost might call delight. “Let me get the old battery out first, it goes easier when I can just drop the old one on the counter and ask to swap it. Can you grab my toolbox out of the trunk?”

“Of course, Swan.”

With Killian’s help - ok, more like “supervision” - the car surgery goes quickly. Emma’s only had to do this once before, but muscle memory is a powerful thing, and it’s easy enough to detach the battery once she knows what other pieces need to be carefully extracted and set aside to get at her goal in the limited space of the Volkswagen. It’s easy, too, to get a new battery when the owner of the auto parts store is one of Leroy’s brothers who she’d had to deal with earlier in the week - just one pointed glare on Emma’s part, and the little whiny man had quickly gone to get her replacement without any long lectures about how to reinstall it or how some people just don’t take good care of their vehicles. 

“If I didn’t say it before, thanks for doing this,” Emma says quietly as Killian drives them both back to their apartment complex in his little SUV. He’s a careful driver, she’s discovered, navigating them smoothly around corners and executing gentle stops. It speaks well of him, she thinks, that he’s gentle in even this most mundane of activities. 

“It’s not a problem, love,” he smiles. “I promise. Truthfully, watching you work on the car is all to my benefit.” The statement sits in the air for a moment before he continues. “Oh, now that sounds sketchy, doesn’t it?”

Emma laughs. “I mean, I think I know what you mean, but yeah, probably not the best choice of words.” It’s been interesting, watching him bounce back and forth in the months they’ve been acquainted between a suave flirt and this more bashful version of himself. 

Honestly, it’s pretty cute too. 

“I just mean…” He tries again, pauses. “It was impressive. Watching a woman perform her own car repair. Attractive.” He groans. “God, just let me put my foot even further into my mouth.”

“No, no it’s okay,” Emma assures him. “I… thanks, I guess.” It’s flattering, really - especially since she’s been ogling him from down the hall for months now. 

“You’re welcome.” They sit in silence. “So, shall we talk about literally anything else now? Let’s do that. Please.”

Knowing what he admitted, though, it’s hard not to put on a little bit of a show when Emma re-installs the new battery. Maybe she lets her shirt ride up, and maybe she leans a little more exaggeratedly over the rear compartment as she works. So what? She’s a woman with needs like any other, and any desire to spend the rest of her weekend alone has melted as she spent her morning with Jones. 

When the repairs are finally done, Emma slams the hatch back shut and turns to face Killian, whose eyes skate up and down her figure as she slides her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. She knows the posture accentuates her breasts and pushes her hips forward into something that almost might be a sway or a swagger; she’s counting on it, in fact. 

“Thanks again for the help,” she tells him, dropping her voice to a more sultry register. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“I don’t know about that,” he replies, before slipping into an attitude to match Emma’s own. “If you feel that way, though… well, who am I to argue. Perhaps a… token of appreciation is in order?” He even taps at his lips, the saucy cheeky bastard.

(She’s  _ so _ going to fuck that.)

Emma can give as good as she gets, though, both in banter and in other, more private things. “Funnily enough, that’s what the  _ thank you _ was for.” Even as the words leave her mouth, Emma sways further into Killian’s space, proving them to be just a facade.

“Is that all your precious Bug is worth to you?” Killian is close enough that Emma can feel the warmth of his breath wash across her face. She could just tilt her head up the smallest bit and claim his lips…

So she does. There’s absolutely no reason why she shouldn’t, especially since she’s felt this sizzling something simmering beneath her skin, a scorching heat she’s seen reflected in Killian’s eyes, ever since the moment they first ran into each other in the hallway five months ago. He’s just as good a kisser as she imagined, though the way their lips meet is nearly feral in its intensity. He, too, gives just as good as he gets, each thrust of Emma’s tongue met with a parry of his own, all accentuated by a forceful tug to bring her hips into contact with his own. God, it’s good.

Frankly, Emma would be happy to keep at it right here in the parking lot, let their clothes drop into the backseat of the Bug and figure out the logistics of sex in the world’s most cramped car, but there’s the matter of neighbors and passers-by and public indecency. “Inside,” she manages to gasp just as Killian squeezes her ass. Lord only knows how she manages to keep her train of thought after  _ that _ . “We gotta go inside. Now.” She even pushes him away and towards the door in emphasis.

“Your place or mine?” Killian trots after her as Emma sets a determined pace, still managing to reach the door in time to hold it open for her. Stupid gentleman, they don’t have time for that. 

Vague memories of dirty laundry on the floor decide for Emma. “Yours,” she tosses back to him. If this is going to be more than a one time thing, she doesn’t want his first impression of her place to be an utter disaster. They live mere doors apart anyways; it’s not like there’s one apartment obviously closer than the other. 

The elevator ride to the third floor seems to take forever, but it’s still better than taking the stairs - even if they have to stay in opposite corners to keep from jumping each other in the little box. It’s funny; normally, the enforced distance would cool the fire raging in her blood and knock Emma to her senses, but it only leaves her imagining all the things she wants to do with Killian, to Killian when they finally make it behind locked doors. She wants him, and there’s no denying it.

At least he has the presence of mind to spend the elevator ride locating his apartment keys; once they reach his door, it’s the work of a moment to slip inside. Killian immediately cages Emma against the wall next to the door, trapping both her hands above her head as he attacks her mouth and neck with his lips.

“Been thinking about this for a long while, Swan,” he murmurs against her neck as he finishes sucking what will be a  _ very  _ impressive hickey into her skin. “Gonna make you feel so good.”

“Oh yeah?” She gasps back. “Me too.” He can take that any way he likes; she means it, regardless.

Abruptly, Killian lets go of her hands only to hoist her into the air. Emma’s legs twine around his hipson instinct, but she’s got other, more important things to worry about - namely, kissing the living daylights out of Killian and the way his toned stomach rubs against her center as he walks them to the bedroom.

She squeals as he tosses her lightly onto the bed, Emma’s body bouncing on impact. Emma scoots up the bed to watch as Killian begins to undress, whipping his t-shirt over his head and starting to reach for his shoes before he notices her staring.

“Are you planning to strip, love?” He asks with an arch of his eyebrow. The hunger is evident in his eyes and in the tenting of his pants, which only makes Emma want to tease him.

“Nah, I think I’m just going to watch.”

“Now, that’s not fair,” Killian whines, halting his own disrobing to crawl over Emma’s body again. “I’ve shown you mine, and here you are, still all wrapped up.”

“I mean, technically, all I’ve seen is your chest. It’s nice, but…” Emma trails her hand down the hair and flesh of his abdomen until she hits denim, twisting her hand to squeeze his erection. “It’s not really what I want to see.”

“You make a good point, love.” His voice catches in his throat in restrained pleasure; Emma kind of loves it. “Now, what do you say that I show you some more of what you’re looking for, and you take care of some of your pesky layers?”

To borrow the kind of words he’d use: she’s amenable to that plan.

He’s got a great dick, really, once she’s down to her bra and underwear and he’s bare in front of her. It’s large without being impractically massive and bobs proudly and eagerly towards his stomach. He obviously knows he’s worth looking at, if his confident stance is any indication. God, Emma can’t wait.

“Let me help you with that, darling,” he purrs, moving back into Emma’s space to reach behind her and unclasp her bra. Thank god her most comfortable bra also happens to be her most flattering, and passably pretty at that. Not that it matters when the garment is already on the floor and Killian’s fingers have ducked beneath the elastic of her underwear to draw them slowly down. 

“Like what you see?” She asks coyly as the cotton hits the ground. She already knows her answer if the way Killian peruses her naked form with wide eyes is any indication.

“Only a fool wouldn’t,” Killian comments, “and darling, I’m no fool. I must say, though, I’m a little less interested in  _ looking _ than in  _ touching _ .”

“Then you’d better get over here.”

This time, when Emma falls back on the bed, pulling Killian with her, she intends to stay there. 

Killian grinds his cock against her core, the most glorious sensation after all this banter and buildup. Skin-on-skin feels  _ good _ , satisfying, though not quite enough to satisfy her craving. There’s only one thing that will do that, she knows, and as much as she wants the slick burn of his body within hers, this friction just feels too good to stop. It’s hard to push away the man who’s rubbing against her clit  _ just right.  _

Finally, though, her craving is too strong to deny. “Condom?” She asks, pushing lightly at Killian’s shoulders to capture his attention.

“Aye,” he pants, a little breathless in his arousal. “Side table.” He doesn’t take the direct path, however, doesn’t just roll off her and reach for the drawer; he detours instead to her breasts to graze his teeth along a nipple and make Emma shudder in pleasure.

She allows herself to get distracted by his attentions for a moment; it’s been a long while since a little boob play has felt this good. Maybe it’s his own skill; maybe she’s already so aroused from everything else that it’s heightened the sensations. Truthfully, it doesn’t matter as long as he keeps making her moan. There’s greater pleasure to be found, however, and with that in mind, Emma makes herself pull Killian away from her chest with a tug on his thick, dark hair. Killian pouts at the interruption - god, what an adorable idiot - but she’s insistent. Plus, she’s got something even more pleasurable in mind.

“Seriously, Jones. Condom. Sex. Now.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Killian mutters as he finally shifts off Emma to open the drawer and extract a little foil packet. Before he can move to do anything about it, she plucks the condom out of his hand and pushes at Killian until he lays back on the mattress so she can straddle him. 

“So you want to be on top, hmm?” He asks her breathlessly as Emma rolls the latex down his length. As she pumps him with her hand, making sure everything’s snug, he moans. “I suppose it’s a good thing I like a woman in charge.”

“I suppose it is,” Emma replies, rising up to situate his cock at her entrance, “because you’re about to get one.” And with that, she gradually sinks down on him, feeling the burn as he stretches her inner walls.

For all her talk, this part always takes a moment to adjust to, with little rocking motions and shallow thrusts of Emma’s hips until she settles into that perfect angle of penetration. Beneath her, Killian’s eyes are blown wide and dark with lust, and his hands grip at her hipbones.

“You’ve got to move,” he gasps. “For the love of God, you’ve got to  _ move _ .”

Emma clenches around him, eliciting another moan, before heeding his plea. There’s no reason  _ a woman in charge _ can’t be a little bit merciful - for both their sakes. The angle is so damn good, especially when she adds a little twist of her hips on each downward thrust. Maybe it’s just because this unspoken thing has been sitting between them for months, but Emma can already feel her pleasure building.

“Want to help a girl out?” She pants as she increases the pace, chasing for the orgasm she can sense just out of reach. When Killian doesn’t immediately move - by the looks of things, too distracted in watching where her body envelops his own - Emma forcibly grabs his hand from where it had been stroking the flesh of her hip and drags it just above where they meet. He can figure it out from there, if he’s half as clever as he acts. 

Sure enough, when he gets with the program, tendrils of sensation start chasing down Emma’s legs all the way to her toes. “You like that, love?” He asks breathlessly.

“Fuck yeah. Just like that,” she gasps out. “ _ Fuck. _ ”

“You’re so gorgeous like this,” Killian prattles on beneath her. Emma truthfully doesn’t pay much attention; the way the curl of his accent sets her blood pounding is more important than anything he has to say. Still, he continues. Maybe he knows she’s not listening, maybe he doesn’t; in the end, does it matter? “Come for me, love, I know you want to.”

And with his thumb on her clit and his cock throbbing within her, she  _ does _ , flying into a flurry of sensation and bliss.

She’s barely come down from her high before Killian flips their positions, sliding out of her heat for the barest of moments before he thrusts back inside. He’s still hard within her, obviously not having found the same release she has. Emma moans as his cock strokes along her inner walls. “You feel so good around me, so tight, darling,” he croons as he sets a steady pace with the snap of his hips. “Do you think you’ve got another one in you? Do you think you can come for me again?”

Emma doesn’t know for certain, but she’s certainly willing to find out.

It turns out, Killian’s a talker in bed when he’s the one holding the reins - little endearments and dirty talk Emma wonders if he’s even aware of saying. She can tell his orgasm is close when the words stop altogether, replaced by little grunts as he works above her, arms braced by her sides and head bowed over her chest. 

He comes with a deep groan just as the tingle of her own release starts to build again; Emma could almost curse in frustration, even if she did already climax earlier. Killian must sense that frustration as he hurriedly drops his hand back between her legs as soon as he’s finished, rubbing furiously at her clit. He pulls out as his cock begins to soften, only to plunge two fingers within her fluttering core instead to thrust and stroke instead. It’s not the same, but it’s enough, and Emma soars over that peak one more time with a mighty exhale of what might almost be Killian’s name. 

“God, that was good,” Emma gasps as she comes back to herself again. Faintly, she’s aware of Killian taking care of the used condom, though she can’t bring herself to care about the details. “Good job team, or… something.”

Killian chuckles as he shifts back to curl around her. “You know, you might even say I gave you a  _ jolt _ ,” he teases.

“Oh, that was awful,” Emma groans, even as she wiggles deeper into his embrace. “Promise me you’ll never say that again, please.”

“I make no promises,” Killian laughs back. “This wit won’t be contained.”

Emma can work with that. After all, she’s she’s currently making several plans that involve him this weekend - and  they'll be sure to make sparks fly for as long as their batteries hold out.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Also posted on tumblr, where I'm @shireness-says.
> 
> Let me know what you thought!


End file.
